How’s this: We could take an out-of-state debit card into a California Safeway, buy $400 worth of whiskey (and maybe get $100 cash back), then sell the whiskey out on the streets. After that, hit another Safeway. Then another. Maybe a Walmart too. And a Walgreen’s. (In California, all these stores sell liquor.)

Share this:

Like this:

Pink gin in the Club House pub, wedding on TV. No crowds. There was more enthusiasm for The Wedding in the US than in Ireland.

We made a speedy exit from Dublin. It was Saturday, May 19th, and we needed to get to the Club House Hotel in Kilkenny in time for The Wedding. I had booked the hotel only after the front desk assured us that we could watch the festivities in their bar. Previous research had revealed that the wedding would not be on every single pub TV in Ireland, because, well, soccer.

Share this:

Like this:

Let’s get one thing straight: a “league” is a not a measure of depth. A league is equal to three miles. As Jules Verne would have it, twenty thousand leagues was a measure of horizontal distance under the sea, a journey that would’ve gone on longer had Kirk Douglas not interfered.

Share this:

Like this:

“I wish you a good vacation. Take advantage of it, and take good care of yourselves. Most of all be wise about not taking on too many challenges.” Such was the advice from our host Sandrine Gailliot-Sopena in an email sent following our tour of Paris aboard her tiny electric scooters.

Share this:

Like this:

Box 5 was always reserved for the Opera Ghost. If management dared to sell it to the public, dire consequences ensued. A stagehand murdered in a deep basement. An 8-ton chandelier falling on an innocent patron. A great soprano who suddenly can only croak. The Ghost had the Paris Opera in its clutches, a possible curse always at the ready.

Share this:

Like this:

We’re back in Paris, almost a year to the day after the most recent post in this blog. It has been a busy year, but not one that has much of anything with expatting, so the blog has been quiet. With today’s entry, it returns.

Share this:

Like this:

In a ritual he treasures, Tom goes off every morning to fetch our breakfast baguette. By the time Tom and the baguette get home, one end has inevitably been bitten off. Every single day. He claims he doesn’t know how it happens.

Share this:

Like this:

I love a good castle, especially with furniture inside. (That is the very definition of a good castle. Bad castle= missing one wall, cold, damp, moss and frogs within.) In my lifelong mission to visit every good castle in Europe, we got ourselves on a train to visit Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, 55 miles southeast of Paris. It has a compelling story.